Hoodoo You See?

After several days based in Moab, we ventured further west, following I-70 (again) through Utah. Disconcertingly, flurries began not long into our drive and continued for the next several hours. It was time to face the facts: the temperature was below freezing and would be so for the next couple of days of our trip. We continued on to Bryce Canyon, land of the hoodoos. The term hoodoo refers to “tall, thin spires of rock protruding from the bottom of an arid drainage basin or badland”. Many of them are formed of soft stone with a top crust of harder stone that partially shields the top from erosion, even as the sides wear away. Nowhere are the hoodoos more plentiful than in Bryce Canyon, Utah.

On arriving to Bryce, we headed out on the Navajo Loop-Peekaboo Loop combo trail within the Bryce Amphitheater, which started off with a steep descent from a stunning outlook to the base of the basin.

Manmade switchbacks were the only thing softening the descent down hundreds of feet.

The steep, sheer cliff faces rose up around us on the Navajo Loop, but it was on the Peekaboo Loop that we got to get up close to the hoodoos of various sizes. Those at the top of the cliffs were scraggly, worn nearly to nothing, while beefier hoodoos decorated the lower parts of the basin.

We saw several familiar windows and arches, including one well-marked point of interest called Two Bridges consisting of two rather puny small arches that, well, weren’t very impressive after several days at Arches. They were no Delicate Arch, if you get what I mean (this coming from a newly minted arch-viewing expert). Still, the hoodoos alone are enough reason to visit Bryce. Plus, with the short distance from parking lot to trail and several shorter trail offerings (albeit with a lot of elevation change), the place was crawling with families. It was also the first place we saw some visitors testing the limits of their wheelchair motors as they sped along the rim trail. We also saw several under-four children near the point of exhaustion tantrum on the ascent back up to the parking lot, but everyone seemed to be managing.

After completing the aforementioned loops, we walked the canyon rim to Inspiration Point, an overlook offering unmatched views of the canyon. The sheer number of hoodoos, stretching for miles in fairly neat rows, made the whole area look like a rippling series of stones.

Bryce Canyon also offers a series of viewpoints along the paved stretch down the middle of the plateau. We stopped at two – Natural Bridge and Rainbow Point. Natural Bridge was yet another arch; apparently it was misnamed because bridge refers to a different geologic creation process. It was quite beautiful, although one spindly section at the right edge made us wonder how long it would last (in relative terms… nothing is likely to happen in the next several thousand years).

Rainbow Point offers a look over the whole canyon and surrounding valley.  It also has signs describing the flora and fauna of Bryce Canyon, some of which we were sorry to miss (flying squirrels) while others we could do without (rattlesnakes, mountain lions).

Another day, another park visited. We are officially halfway through our trip!

Spotted: Rural life. A small town (dubbed Bryce Canyon City) had sprung up just outside the park, with a sign announcing that it was founded in 2007. The next closest town was about 15 miles away and the main street ran about 100 yards. On our morning drive to Bryce, spots to stop and refill our gas tank were often 50-60 miles apart. The only music here is country music, and roadside establishments have names ranging from the cutesy (Mugglewumps) to celebrations of a wild west past (Outlaw Saloon – the mascot holding a pistol in one hand and a serving tray in the other, of course with a cowboy hat). Gas station snack selections include Idaho Spuds (a marshmallow-chocolate-coconut confection) and Muddy Buddies. Horses, sheep, and cows are more plentiful than people, and dwellings are modest. Décor involves a lot of old tractor parts, farming equipment, and vintage milk cans. Having only visited places this rural rather than lived in them, it certainly feels like a different world from the one I have known.